


The Assistant

by Aster_star



Category: Drarry - Fandom
Genre: Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Harry Potter, Healers, M/M, Ministry of Magic, future drarry, hermione - Freeform, hermione granger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24821257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aster_star/pseuds/Aster_star
Summary: When Harry Potter decided to follow his dream to becoming a Healer, he didn’t expect another dream to come true. Draco Malfoy, his childhood rival, has been appointed as Harry’s new assistant...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter One

Harry Potter tapped his pencil against his desk. Today was not going to be like every other Monday- he felt like today would be _different_.

And that wasn’t because the new book in his favourite series had just been released.

Although that did make today slightly different.

It was because today, and just today, he was going to get a new assistant. And despite only having one previous assistant, he felt like this one would be different too. 

Just then, there was a loud knock on the wooden door to Harry’s office.

The sound of his pencil tapping the wood paused. 

“Come in,” Harry called, without looking up from the patients files he was organising. 

Somebody shuffled awkwardly into the room, and he confirmed that it wasn’t Hermione again after all; she would have barged in without knocking just to launch into a monologue about something ‘crazy’ that had happened to her.

It _had_ to be his new assistant, Harry realised with a sense of excitement.

Oddly, he thought that he almost felt... like he _knew_ the person standing by the door. 

But that was crazy, right? No one that he knew would have wanted to be a healer too. 

So who could it be?

He finally looked up, and hoped that the shock on his face wasn’t too obvious. Of course, standing stiffly beside the coat rack, was none other than _Draco Malfoy._

_Stay calm,_ Harry told himself. If he accidentally let the whole tangled mess of feelings connected to Draco slip out, he was sure he’d never hear the end of it. 

Harry swallowed nervously and tried to smile, but he feared that it was more of a grimace. 

His face didn’t feel like it was doing the right thing.

“Hello, Draco Malfoy,” He said, and looked for the nearest thing he could preoccupy himself with because anything was better than staring at Draco, despite how hard it was.   
  


“Harry Potter,” Draco replied with a curt nod, and hung his coat up on the stand by the door. His voice send shivers down Harry’s spine. _Gods,_ that _voice_ \- he hadn’t heard it in so long.  
  


If someone had asked him ten years ago if he would ever hear that voice again, he would have shaken his head with a laugh.

And if someone had told him that when he heard that voice again Draco Malfoy would be his _assistant_ and as a _healer_... well, he would have told them to go to St Mungos and get themselves checked out. 

He picked up his pencil, flipped it in his fingers, and put it back down again, aligning it with the pen beside it. 

In the corner of his vision he saw Draco standing still, as if he were waiting for Harry to say something, so he motioned for him to put his stuff down on the desk opposite him.

It was weird having someone else in the room with him, let alone that being Draco; after having the desk empty for a month it was unfamiliar for it to suddenly be occupied. 

It was also strange seeing Draco after all this time, and he almost didn't recognise him from his cold past self. 

No, that was stupid. Of course he was still an enormous git- he had probably just become better at hiding it.

“So... you’re a healer too?” He asked Draco, trying helplessly to break the awkward silence that had taken place in the large office.

“Yeah. I started a couple of months ago. But... I thought you wanted to be an Auror?”

Draco replied, quickly changing the subject from himself. Harry shrugged.

“It wasn’t really the thing for me,” he said curtly, and went back to filling out the documents on his desk.

“Okay...” Draco said, and Harry felt like he wanted to ask more, but was holding himself back. _That’s good_ , he reminded himself. _Don’t allow yourself to get close to him._ It would never work out.

“What do you need me for?” Draco said, interrupting his thoughts. 

Harry hesitated, then had the _genius_ idea of sending Draco away somewhere _out of his office_ so that he could _concentrate_ and not fantasise about that fluffy blond hair and what it would feel like beneath his fingers... _dammit, Harry_ ! He shook his head. _Focus_. 

He handed Draco a few lists and ingredients for some potions that he only needed the next day but would save him the trip after work, and asked him to go to Diagon Alley to procure the other items.

When Harry was done, he allowed himself to finally look at Draco. It was just being polite, after all. The first thing that he noticed was that Draco had not only stopped ridiculously gelling his hair, but he had also grown it longer, and it sprang wildly around his face. 

It looked like it was doing that just to tease him, Harry thought. 

He also admitted that it looked a lot better this way.

His suit was immaculate as always, and he tried not to stare for too long at his arm. _Was the tattoo still there?_

Draco hadn’t mentioned anything about what had happened after the battle all those years ago, and he didn't want to be the one to bring it up. Not when they had actually been getting on... alright. If that’s what you could call a few spoken words of conversation that weren’t work-related, but it was _progress._

Harry’s wandering gaze met Draco’s silver-flecked eyes. They seemed warmer and less icy than they had used to, but he could just be imagining things. 

Of course he was just imagining things- Draco was clearly the same idiot that he had been at Hogwarts. Draco seemed to answer his thoughts by smirking and wrapping a scarf around his neck before heading out.   
  


He paused by the door and turned around. 

“See you in a bit, Potter.” He grinned and closed the door behind him.


	2. Chapter two

Harry felt his gaze travelling to the strangely shaped clocks on the wall. 

_ Where was Draco? _ It had almost been an hour since he had left, and Harry had only expected him to be gone for half that time. 

_ What if he had run into trouble? What if he had hurt himself? What if... _ Harrys thoughts trailed away. If something had happened to Draco, it would all be Harry’s fault. 

Sighing, Harry got up and put on his worn grey coat, before walking over to the old floo in the corner. He took a pinch of the emerald dust beside the large red fireplace and stepped inside.

"Diagon Alley!" he shouted, throwing the dust into swirls of smoke around him, and was engulfed by green flames. 

When he arrived at Diagon Alley, the first thing he noticed was a huge crowd of muttering people, standing in front of an old brown house with a slanted roof that dipped and spiked in strange places. 

The three broomsticks. 

People were huddled around the pathway before the open door of the pub, whispering to each other about whatever they were crowding around. 

"Sorry!" Harry mumbled as he shoved past some old witches, and pushed towards the centre of the crowd. 

In the middle of the crowd was a man, lying in a sprawled heap on the floor. 

A man with platinum blonde hair. 

Harry looked around searchingly, but his green eyes only met blank faces. 

"What happened?" he cried, gesturing to Draco. "Why is he like this?" he repeated.

An old woman with strawberry blond hair looked at Harry pityingly. 

“He walked out of that place," she said, nodding over to the three broomsticks. “Well, I think staggered might be the better word,” she corrected herself. "Injured or drunk, I couldn’t tell," she finished. 

Harry felt himself fill with worry.  _ What had happened? _

He had only asked Draco to buy a few ingredients... frowning, Harry moved his wand and muttered a few sober-ing charms, but Draco didn’t stir.  _ So, not alcohol then.  _

There was no sign of a struggle and Draco didn’t have any visible injuries, so he turned back to the old witch.

"Are you sure that he was drunk?" Harry asked the lady, who hesitated.

"I don’t think it was... I don’t think he knew. Maybe there was something in his drink, if you know what I mean," the woman frowned. 

Harry looked back at Draco. He seemed to be unconscious, but his chest was rising and falling normally. 

Maybe it hadn’t been Draco's fault after all. 

Harry checked his pockets for any clue, and his hand closed around a scrap of paper that had been roughly scrunched up and shoved inside. Harry noticed his name on the note, and carefully unfolded it and smoothed it out. 

_ Stay away from our Harry Potter, you Death Eater.  _

He felt sick. Who would  _ write  _ that? And it wasn’t like Draco had ‘worked’ for Voldemort recently… but hadn’t Harry wondered the same thing earlier? The fact that he had even  _ considered _ if Draco had kept the tattoo, had maybe  _ wanted _ to keep it but him dizzy. 

Was he so much better than whoever had written this?

Well, even if he had  _ thought _ those things, at least he hadn’t gone as far as the mysterious note-writer. To  _ drug  _ someone else, in the middle of the day… 

Harry realised that both sides had had villains during the war. It had just depended what they were willing to do. 

Harry wondered who could have done it, but knew that there were countless people trying to ruin the lives of everyone who had so much as given Voldemort anything in order not to be killed. 

Now that it was clear which side had won, people were quick to prove who they had fought with. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked Draco to get the ingredients after all. 

The potion Harry needed to make to remove the drug from Draco would take a while, so Harry put a sleeping spell on Draco which meant that he would wake up peacefully in a few hours. 

The crowd had almost cleared, so Harry thanked the witch for her help and apparated to Draco’s flat (all the addresses were in the address book at work) with him. It had been rather awkward when they had stood in front of the door, Harry supporting Draco’s slumped form, and he realised that Draco’s key was in Draco’s pocket, but a simple 'accio' had resolved the problem. 

It felt strange for Harry to be in Draco's apartment, walking through the carefully laid out shirts and modern furniture. 

Harry laid Draco's sleeping form down on the bed carefully, hastily scribbling a note so that Draco wouldn't be worried when he woke up. 

Just as he was about to leave, Harry heard Draco whisper his name. 

"Harry..." Harry turned around, thinking that Draco had woken up, but instead saw Draco still asleep, clutching the duvet closer to him while whispering over and over, to himself: "Harry... yes... more, Harry..." 

Draco moaned quietly, and turned onto his side. When Harry realised what he was hearing, he turned beetroot and quickly dissaparated, but all the way to his flat he couldn’t stop thinking of Draco.


	3. Chapter three

"...maybe he was dreaming about, er... hitting me? Like, do you really think that Draco could actually have feelings for _me_?" Harry groaned as he sprawled out on the sofa, Hermiones voice sounding squeaky through his old phone that he held clutched to his ear. Hermione was the only one of his friends who actually knew how to use a phone, and Harry preferred it to letters due to it’s reliability and speed.

"I’m sure he likes you, Harry. Just go for it!" Hermione replied, sounding unexpectedly optimistic. Harry wanted to ask exactly _how_ sure she was, but he was immediately suspicious when an idea popped into his head. "Wait... you haven’t been talking to Pansy about Draco, have you?" Harry asked her seriously. Ever since Pansy Parkinson had started working in the office next to Hermione in the ministry, they had become firm friends. Hermione felt bad for lying to Harry, but knew that if Harry found out about her and Pansy’s plans he would flip out and never ask Draco out. " _Me_? Talking to _Pansy_? Pffft Harry, _really_..." Hermione laughed nervously, but her voice came out strangely high-pitched. Harry was probably too oblivious to notice anyway, she thought. "Phew. I just... want this to be between us, y'know? Anyway, thanks for all the help! I should probably go check up on Draco though, he’s probably woken up by now!” Harry hung up and Hermione let out a breath she hadn’t realised that she'd been holding. She felt bad lying to her friend, but stuck to the fact that _he would thank her one day._..

The sound of a persistent tapping woke Harry from a strange dream. Tap. Tap. Harry looked up. Although his curtains were drawn he could see the silhouette of an owl through the thin fabric. He let out a breath when he realised that it wasn’t anything other than an owl impatiently trying to wake him up and dragged himself off the sofa with a suprising amount of energy that he didnt realise he had. He trudged over to the window and opened the curtains. Perched on the window ledge was a tall snowy owl (who reminded Harry a bit of Hedwig) with bright fur that stood out in the dark night air. The tall owl was looking at Harry with a mix of disdain and puzzlement, as if he had no idea why his master would want him to deliver a letter to the man he had just seen stumble sleepily through his apartment, knocking over the tall lamp next to the armchair in the process of trying to open a window. The owl ruffled his feathers impatiantly as Harry fumbled with the lock on the window. When the window was finally open the owl nipped Harry’s hand to try and get him to take the letter, and Harry winced. When he unfolded the letter, the owl hooted triumphantly and flew away.

_ Dear  ~~ HarryHarry PotterMr Potter  ~~ Harry, _

_ Thanks for what you did. You didn't need to. I'm sorry for what happened.  ~~ I just  ~~ _

_~~ It was because of that timeI  ~~ We need to talk.  _

_ Kind Regards, _

_~~Draco MalfoyDraco S. L. Malfoy~~ Draco. _

Harry looked out of the window where the snowy owl was dissapearing in the dark.  _We need to talk._ What did Draco need to tell him that couldn’t have been put in the letter? For one moment, Harry let himself hope what Draco would say, but he knew it was stupid. For all Harry knew, Draco hated him and hated working with him and only stuck around because he hadn’t managed to get a job anywhere else. But the other night- hadn’t Harry heard what Draco was saying in his dream? Miserably, Harry quenched the small flicker of hope and faced the harsh truth. Draco Malfoy could never like him.


	4. Chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: sorry I haven’t updated this in a while! I am currently also working on some Drarry one-shots which I will hopefully post soon but are taking more time than I originally thought. I will try to post the next chapter of The Assistant some time this week. Thanks!

Harry fiddled with the hem of his shirt, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Then rolled them back down again. Then rolled them up. He was so nervous. What was Draco going to tell him? For once, Harry had been early to work. And much to Harry’s surprise, Draco hadn’t been there. Which left Harry with plenty of time to go to the new muggle coffee shop down the road, _and_ still have time to clear his desk, which he hardly ever did. At least he had found the colour-changing bookmark Hermione had given him for last Christmas, which had been stuck in a dusty book buried under sheets of paper.

The book was called  _‘from horn brew to chocolate: the must-have guide to healing’_ by Elspeth Montgomery, and had long since been re-edited and re-published, meaning that Harry’s ancient battered copy was probably extremely inaccurate. He was brought back to reality by a sharp knock on the door. Draco. Harry tried to swallow his nerves and called:

“Come in!” Draco opened the door and walked in stifly, hanging his jacket on the coat stand.

“Harry, I-“ Draco sighed at the same time that Harry blurted: 

“Draco, maybe-“ Harry laughed nervously. “You first,” he smiled. 

“Harry, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” Draco paused. “About... about the other day.”

Harry could hear the implied  _about the other day when I got drugged and you saved me_ as though he was screaming. 

“Yes?” Harry asked calmly, but inside he was a mess. Did Draco know that Harry had heard him sleeping? Was he going to confess his everlasting love for Harry?

_No, stupid._ Harry chided himself.  _ Remember, he doesn’t like you. _

“Well, um... thanks. About, y’know...” Draco trailed off. 

“Of course! No problem! Anytime!” Harry squeaked. There was a moment of silence. 

“If... if you ever wanted to... like, get coffee or something some time, we could... um...” Draco stuttered. Was he asking Harry out?! 

“Yes! Yes!” Harry said, looking like an over-exited puppy. Draco blushed and nodded, not meeting Harry’s gaze. “That would be nice,” he smiled.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: so far this story has mainly focused on Harry’s thoughts (although it’s in third person) but after the three asterisks (***) there is a short section that looks at Draco’s POV a bit more. I hope this makes sense, but don’t worry; it’s not a long-term thing and the focus quickly changes back to the other characters and Harry after another ‘***’. Sorry for the wait, I was really busy last week and it takes a while to convert the story with italics and other things. To make up for it this chapter is longer than usual, so thank you and enjoy!

There was an awkward silence in their office as Draco and Harry worked, filling out documents and, in Harry’s case, brewing potions whilst thinking about Draco. It came as no surprise to either of them when the room was filled with a sharp bang.

“Oops,” Harry sighed. “What on earth did I do wrong?!” He ran a hand through his messy black hair exasperatedly. ”I’m sure I added the bats wings after the flobberworms...” Draco stifled a laugh. The potion was a bright pink and had red heart-shaped clouds floating above it. “I- I...” Harry searched for words. Outside the office, Hermione triumphantly tucked her wand in her pocket and strolled down the corridor.

_ The potion was going to go wrong anyway,  _ she told herself.  _ It was only a matter of making it go wrong in a better way.  _ She laughed as she thought of Harrys face as he stared in disbelief at the potion, and closed the door to her office behind her. She knew that she was far too invested in this for her own good, but she couldn’t help it. She was in too deep. And, so far, it had worked out! They were getting coffee together soon! Hermione let out a whoop as she thought about it. She wrote a quick encrypted note to Pansy, and then got back to work. She had a lot to do.

***

He was so stupid. How could he have thought that Harry might have actually wanted to get a  _ coffee _ with _him_?! It was obvious that Harry wasn’t gay. Or bi. Or anything really: he literally was with Ginny for AGES. And they only broke up because Ginny pulled the rainbow flag out of the hat, not Harry. And now Draco had proof: they had just been talking about which place to go for for coffee when Harrys potion had pretty much spelled out love. And Draco could find no logical explanation for that apart from the fact that Harry had been thinking about some past date where he’d taken some girl to the cafe Draco was talking about. He was so stupid. What had Blaise’s said to him when Draco had told him about the whole Harry thing?  _ You’re just going to get hurt, Draco. I mean, look at him. He’s as straight as they come. It’s not worth the pain.  _ The only one who believed in Draco was Pansy, but that was probably because she literally shipped anyone and was usually unobservant to what was actually going on. Draco watched Harry rinse out his cauldron and start the potion again, absent-mindlessly brushing his messy black hair out of his eyes. He looked quite different without his usual round glasses, Draco realised. Instead of his old wiry frames Harry now wore some larger glasses that complemented his face more and accented his freckles. Since when did Harry have freckles?! Draco thought back to the last time he saw Harry before his new job- at the Hogwarts reunion.  He  _ definitely  _ hadn’t had freckles then. Or maybe Draco just hadn’t noticed. He had never thought that Harry was the kind of guy to have freckles, but Draco found that he actually suited them. 

“Um, Draco? What do you think?” Harry said. Draco looked up, startled, and realised that Harry had been saying something.

“Oh, err, yes, definitely,” Draco nodded enthusiastically. Harry smiled and nodded.

“Cool. See you there, then!” Draco grinned, but inside he had no idea what the  _ hell  _ Harry was talking about. 

***

“You’ve got to help me, Pan! What if its like some big occasion thing he invited me too and then I don’t turn up and he’s soooo sad?” Draco wailed. Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Chill, Drake. He obviously just invited you to your coffee  ** date  ** thing after settling on the  _ perfect  _ place...”  Pansy smirked. Draco sighed. 

“Yeah right. As if he actually wants to go on a date with me- he probably just agreed to it because he felt bad. Anyway, even if he  was  talking about our date, I have no idea where or when it is. And how do I know that you’re not just saying that he was talking about the date so that I turn up with flowers or something and look like a complete idiot.” Draco leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, not wanting to see Pansy’s pitying face when she realised that he was right and someone as perfect as Harry would never love him. Instead, Pansy groaned.

“God Draco, how stupid  _ are  _ you? He  _ obviously  _ likes you and wants to go on a date with you, I mean look at yourself Draco! To be honest, if it weren’t for Andrew we would literally be married right now.” Draco snorted. “Yeah right,” he said.  _ Andrew  _ was Pansy’s boyfriend who she constantly talked about, but Draco was still dubious about whether he actually existed, since he had never met him and Pansy never showed him photos of him either. 

“Oh, and the fact that you don’t exactly _like_ girls,” Pansy added, and Draco laughed.

***

“How’s he doing?” Pansy asked Hermione as she strolled into her office, carrying some random papers that definitely needed to be delivered to the second floor. “Are him and Harry getting on okay?” Hermione nodded in silent reply, making sure that she had sound-proofed the office before turning to Pansy excitedly. 

“It’s better than that, Pan,” she smiled. “They haven’t argued in ages! I mean, most of the time they don’t talk at all but I’m sure that will solve itself soon. And Harry said he’s so excited for-“

“Draco too!” Pansy interrupted, and they both high-fived. “Oh, and before I forget-Draco has no idea where the date is happening. This requires some urgent Panmione action,” Pansy added. 

“Of course, I’ll owl you the address as soon as I’ve wringed it out of Harry. He was a bit suspicious of me yesterday, but I think we’re back in safe territory now. Has Draco asked more about Andrew?”  Hermione said, scribbling something on a piece of paper that looked like  “ _make sure Harry doesn’t ask Draco to Mandy’s_ ”  Pansy only knew Mandy’s as the old-fashioned bakery a few blocks down, but didn’t dare ask why it would be such a bad spot.

“I think he still doubts whether Andrew really exists,” Pansy sighed. “But he hasn’t really asked anymore about him.”

"Good," Hermione smiled. “I’ll send him a text in a moment. But first...” She closed the blinds with a flick of her wand. “...I think Andrew is missing his girlfriend.”


	6. Chapter Six (the date!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the long hiatus, but The Assistant is back! Chapters will hopefully be more regular now, at either one or two updates every two weeks. This chapter had to be cut in half (sorry!) but the rest will be posted soon! Thank you so much for bearing with me... and enjoy reading!

Where was Draco? Maybe he hadn’t really meant to accept the coffee invitation. But then... why had he agreed on meeting him? Harry fiddled with the little paper napkin on the table and looked around again. Still no sign of Draco. He jumped as his phone pinged loudly, but it was only Hermione. She was suspiciously asking what the address for the cafe was, but explained to Harry that she thought Draco was lost. Of course! Maybe that was why Draco was late. But how had Hermione known about that? His fingers were a blur as he sent a quick message to Draco explaining the exact location which the small cafe was nestled at, and Draco’s fast response confirmed that Hermione had been right in believing him to be lost.  _ Thanks. Be there in five.  _

His thoughts started to wander as his wristwatch moved in a dance-like fashion, spinning and clicking at random intervals that made perfect sense to him. Not for the first time, Harry wondered where Draco was right now. He had only caught a small glimpse of Draco’s apartment that night that felt like so long ago now, and he wasn’t sure if there had been a floo fireplace. Perhaps he had visited a friend first, and had used theirs. Perhaps he was walking or taking muggle transport, but the thought of Draco sitting uncomfortably on a bus made Harry want to laugh out loud. He was brought back to reality as his watch made a loud click, and he found himself beginning to worry. He had about 35 minutes before he had in important meeting, which should leave him with enough time to talk to Draco. If only Draco came soon... almost on cue, the seemingly innocent fireplace in the corner of the room flashed green, and when the smoke cleared, Draco stumbled into the cafe, looking like he had just woken up. And he was wearing a  _jumper_.  Not only that, but the jumper was  _green_.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, I completely overslept.” He could see  _that_ ,  Harry thought. 

“Er, don’t worry, that’s fine-“ Harry stuttered as his mind tried to process what his eyes were seeing. Draco followed his gaze and made a face as he looked at his outfit. 

“Yeah, I know, I’m going to change when I get to the office. It was the only thing I had clean and-“

“It’s fine. Want to order anything?” Harry interrupted him brusquely, pointedly staring at the blackboard above the counter even though he already knew what the neatly scrawled writing said by heart. Draco quickly took a seat beside him and requested an iced Americano with a skim of frothed milk and ice.

“ _Extra_ ice,” Draco added. 

Harry hesitated, eyeing Draco from the corner of his eye. Was he going to admit that he was  _ slightly  _ put off by Draco’s drink choice? Of course not.  _ Absolutely  _ not. He swallowed, signalled that he was ready to order, and recited Draco’s order. 

“And for you?” The waitress asked, peering over her glasses to examine Harry. She had seen him before, she was sure. Perhaps it had been on the flickering screen at her grandmas? No, that hadn’t been it. But something about his tussled black hair and oddly-shaped scar seemed familiar.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate, thank you.” He paused, thinking. 

“With  _ extra  _ marshmallows.” Harry murmured under his breath, smiling slightly. He could have sworn that the corner of Draco’s mouth twitched upwards slightly, and rejoiced in his small victory.

He turned his body to Draco, who was staring out of the Cafe’s small window, seemingly trying to avoid eye contact. Had it annoyed him that the young woman seemed to recognise Harry? He always came here to avoid the looks and stares from fellow witches and wizards, but it was ridiculous to believe that muggles had been oblivious to what had been going on five years ago. And, after all, this cafe was owned by a witch who employed people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid at the old fashioned fireplace in the corner of the room. That would naturally also mean that they probably had at least an inkling as to the whole Voldemort thing. 

Once the young woman had disappeared,Draco looked away from the window he had intently been looking out of and tugged unconsciously on his jumper. 

“Hot chocolate?” He finally said, raising an eyebrow. 

“W-well, not everyone wants a coffee at 8 in the morning!” Harry stammered, remembering his extra request. 

“And who doesn’t like marshmallows?”

Draco laughed quietly, but quickly disguised it as a cough. Did he really think that Harry was stupid enough not to notice  _ that _ ? There was an awkward silence while they both thought of something to say, and, as is oft the case with awkward silences, they both tried to break it at the same time. 

“So, do-“

“I was-“

“You first,” Draco insisted. Harry took a deep breath. 

“Well,” he said, blushing furiously. “I was wondering if... 


	7. Chapter seven (Part two)

“Well,” he said, blushing furiously. “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to Hermione’s birthday party next weekend? She’s made it into this huge occasion and is pressurising me into coming but I don’t want to go alone, because that would  _ really  _ make her-“ 

Harry began to ramble as he avoided eye contact with Draco at all cost. 

“Sure,” Draco interrupted Harry quietly, and Harry let his emerald eyes snap back to Draco. He was sure that he’d misheard him. 

“I’ll come to the party,” Draco clarified to Harry’s surprised face. 

When the words has finally sunken in, Harry was back to saying way too many words, way too fast. 

“You will? That’s great! I’ll need to check the address with ‘Mione but I’ll send it to you as soon as I can. Oh, and I think that there’s also a stupid dress code but I’m sure it won’t matter if you just turn up in something smart-ish it’s not like she’s gonna notice to be honest she’ll be too busy hanging out with her best friend Pan-“ 

“Just... send me the details as soon as you get them.”

Harry had a feeling that Draco didn’t like his rambling. He nodded eagerly, afraid to open his mouth in case another stream of words flew out. 

“Oh- what where you going to say again? Before I told you about the party?” Harry remembered and quickly asked Draco before clamping his mouth shut. 

“Er, nothing, nothing at all,” Draco spluttered, and Harry realised that he’s never seen Draco blush before. At least, not like  _this_ :  he had never really given off “I’m someone who blushes” vibes, so he was surprised to see Draco awkwardly ducking his head to hide the fiery red spreading across his pale cheeks. 

Harry shrugged and suddenly realised that his almost-empty hot chocolate had suddenly become very interesting, and Draco gulped down his Americano like it was the last he’s ever get.

Suddenly, Harry’s watch performed an urgent series of pings and the large dial around the watch rotated 90°. Harry’s face went white as he remembered what that meant. 

“What? What is it?” Draco asked worriedly, sensing the urgency. 

“I’m so sorry, Draco. Something came up and... I’ve got to go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: ...and that’s the end of The Date! Sorry again for splitting this into two parts, i hope you look forward to chapter seven, The Party 👀


	8. Chapter Eight

Harry looked around the crowded living room, searching for a certain blonde. Hermione had done a good job of decorating, he thought. The large living room was a sea of reds and oranges (the theme had been fire, for a reason that Harry did not want to think about) and his friend was flitting around with a beautiful sequinned dress that seemed to glow in the warm lighting. To be honest, she had probably charmed it to do just that, and Harry felt a little underdressed in his red shirt and jeans. He hoped that when Draco finally turned up, it would be in pyjamas. Once the image was in his mind, he couldn’t get it out and Harry quickly reached for the closest alcoholic beverage, downing the strong liquid in a single gulp. 

“Harry?” A voice wove through the chatting people around him. 

Harry turned around and saw that, unfortunately, Draco was not wearing pyjamas. In fact, he was wearing a fitted maroon suit with a white shirt underneath and a little yellow flower in his button hole. 

“It was the only red thing I had,” Draco said apologetically, misinterpreting Harry’s frustrated gaze. 

“It’s, er, it’s nice.” Harry said awkwardly, raking a hand through the messy black curls he had tried to tame earlier. 

“Do you want a drink?” Harry said, voicing the first thing that he thought of. 

“Sure,” Draco nodded, letting Harry lead him to the bar, which had been strung with bright fairy lights that jumped and cracked like real flames. Draco accepted a golden cocktail with little yellow bubbles and an orange mist, and Harry chose a bright red liquid with pink, wobbly shapes. 

“ _ Lovers dream, _ ” Draco read aloud the sign above the tray Harry had taken his drink from. Harry blushed and sipped the fluorescent drink in his hands. 

“ ‘S not that bad,” he mumbled. “Anyway, you can’t talk with you  _fire desire_.”

Speaking the names aloud confirmed Harry’s suspicion of the choice of ‘fire’ for the theme; Hermione has really just been disguising the real theme of  _ passion  _ and  _ love  _ or whatever else gave her an excuse to wear her red dress and set Harry up with someone. When would she finally understand that Harry didn’t want to be with anyone apart from-

“Hello, Harry.” A soft voice interrupted his thoughts, and Harry turned around to find Luna smiling at him with her arm wrapped around Ginny’s shoulder. 

“Hey Luna,” Harry replied. “Oh, and Ginny! You two look great by the way.” It was, in fact, true: Ginny and Luna were wearing coordinated outfits of ombré dresses with golden sequins. 

“Hello, Draco,” Ginny clipped as she noticed Draco, who was awkwardly hovering beside Harry and looking like he would rather be somewhere else entirely. Harry gave her a warning look and Ginny subtly rolled her eyes. 

“Well, the atmosphere is ripe for Smophs, isn’t it?” Luna interrupted the telepathic conversation with avague gesture towards the roof of the large room. 

“What, do they love fake fire?” Ginny asked her girlfriend, scanning the room and raising an eyebrow.

“No, they love _passion_ , ” Luna replied adoringly, and Ginny pulled her towards her to kiss. Draco mimed wrenching noises and gulped down the rest of his drink. 

“We should probably go find Hermione,” Luna finally said, giving Harry and Draco a knowing look. 

“Congratulate the birthday girl and all that.”

Ginny reluctantly followed Luna, her eyes still shouting daggers at Draco. Harry poured himself another drink, this time making sure that it didn’t have a name that could be embarrassing (which proved to be a lot harder than he thought it would be), and asked Draco if he wanted to go somewhere a bit quieter. 

“Sure,” Draco replied, grabbing the closest bottles of wine before following him. Harry was sure that he was already pretty tipsy, but he didn’t want Draco to think he was scared or anything, so he took his cocktail glass anyway. He knew Hermione’s house pretty well, and led Draco to the small guest bedroom upstairs. He hoped no one would disturb them there. 

~

“...and that’s when she told me!” Draco giggled, and Harry took another swig from the bottle that had somehow found its way into his hands. 

“Really?! 

“I can’t believe Ginny and Luna are dating.” Harry said, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve after taking a less-than-polite sip of a strange blue cocktail. 

Draco nodded dryly. “Wouldn’t have really considered that match, but they seem happy.”

Harry couldn’t figure out why he was disappointed when he noticed the slight curve of Draco’s mouth, or the flash of annoyance in his eyes as he spoke. He discarded his thoughts with a refill of his glass, and watched Draco take a long drink from the bottle clutched in his hands. He needed to stop drinking, Harry told himself for the hundredth time. It was making his thoughts clouded and it made him want to do things to Draco that were  _ highly _ irrational.   


Harry pushed his slipping glasses up his nose, strategically doing it in a way that disguised his blush. He stole a glance at Draco when he was behind the safety of his glasses and was pleased to notice that Draco was looking flustered and  very  drunk. After all, Harry didn’t want to make a fool of himself only to find that Draco was stone cold sober and would remember _ everything  _ tomorrow. God, that would be awkward. They smiled at each other drunkenly, their fingers dancing to a far away song.

“You’re  _ sooo  _ pretty,” Draco slurred, playing with a strand of Harry’s hair. His heart was beating at five million miles a second and Draco’s touch was sending electric shockwaves down his spine. 

“Er, th- I mean, I-“ Harry stuttered, suddenly speechless. 

Draco shuffled closer to him, suddenly looking so young and fragile. 

“I thought you would hate me,” Draco mumbled so quietly that Harry almost didn’t hear him. He was doing everything to avoid eye contact with Harry, who immediately sensed the change in the atmosphere. 

“After everything I did, I thought that- that-“ Draco choked up and buried himself into Harry’s side. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he started patting Draco’s back awkwardly. He was terrible at comforting people, but his tipsy self still wanted to try. 

“Shhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay.

I would never hate you,” Harry blushed scarlet as the words flew out of his mouth, but Draco hadn’tseemed to notice.  _Maybe I’ve got to be a bit more... forward_ ,  Harry thought. He took a deep breath, and lifted Draco’s chin with the tip of his finger so that they were looking at each over. 

“When you disappeared... I- I just... I was worried about you. Just, please, tell me if you’re going to do something stupid like that in the future.”

Draco’s eyes widened as he processed Harry’s words. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know that- that-“ Draco nodded quickly as he spoke. 

“Yeah. I’ll, er, try to tell you in the future.”

Harry sighed in relief, but that relief made him want to-

_Oh fuck it_ ,  Harry thought. With one fluid motion he pulled Draco closer to him, and intertwined his fingers in Draco’s hair.

“Is... is this okay? Harry asked worriedly, suddenly losing confidence. Draco let out an animalistic growl in response, and pushed Harry down into the bed.  
  


“You’re such an idiot,” Draco smiled into Harrys neck.

Harry grinned sheepishly at the blonde above him, realising that Draco’s grey eyes had never looked more like liquid silver.

Draco moved forwards then- closing the gap between them inch by inch until Harry couldn’t take it anymore and surged up with a sudden burst of energy, sealing his lips to Dracos.


	9. Chapter Nine

Gods, his lips were soft. Harry pressed his body closer to Dracos, and enjoyed a brief moment of satisfaction when he felt the blonde mirror his actions. Their movements were clumsy and needy, but they followed a strange rhythm of breathy pants that seemed to perfectly match their rapid heartbeats. 

“Draco-“ Harry murmured when he finally got a breath of air, but Dracos hungry lips quickly silenced him. 

“We... should... probably... gosomewhereelse...” Harry managed to finally say in between kissing Draco, but immediately regretted it when Dracos movements paused. 

“I mean, she probably wouldn’t find us here anyway-“ Harry said, subconsciously moving closer to Draco with every word. His lips had just found Dracos (his hands were somewhere else entirely) when the door to the guest room banged open. 

“Harry fucking Potter, get your ass back in my living room right now!” Hermione’s voice screamed at them from the doorway. “Oh, hello Draco,” she added when she noticed who Harry had been busy making out with. Draco seemed to be frozen in place, so Harry subtly pulled the messy covers over them when Hermione took another swing from the green bottle in her hands. 

“Well, stay here if you want, I guess,” she finally slurred. 

“Just use some kind of lock, and make sure you-“

“HERMIONE GRANGER!” Someone shouted from downstairs. 

“WHAT IS IT?” She belted back. The person downstairs said something that Harry couldn’t hear, but it made Hermione blush beetroot red. 

“Sorry guys, carry on...” Hermione waved around with her hand to demonstrate what she meant. Harry sunk a little lower being the covers. The curly-haired witch swayed as she stood up after leaning on the door frame, and then quickly staggered down stairs noisily. Harry hoped that she wouldn’t trip and injure herself (which was a very likely thing for drunk Hermione to do) but right now he could only think about the person beside him. 

“Are you okay? I didn’t think she would just come in like that... we should probably have locked the room though,” Harry laughed nervously, still watching for a reaction in Dracos frozen face. 

“...Draco?” He repeated. 

Suddenly Draco shook himself like a dog trying to get dry, and ran a shaking hand through his hair. 

“Sorry, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I should probably head back home now-“

Draco mumbled, slowly gathering his discarded jackets. 

“I’ll, er, I’ll see you tomorrow…?” Draco said, and Harry wasn’t sure why it sounded like a question, but he nodded anyway. 

Draco hurriedly left the room, and Harry replayed the last moments in his head. Why had Draco wanted to rush off like that? He supposed it must have been embarrassing for Hermione to burst in on them like that, but in her current state she probably wouldn’t remember anything the next day. As Harry thought of what had happened before she had burst in… well, he sincerely hoped that Dracos sudden departure hadn’t meant that that could never happen again. The memory of Dracos body, firmly pressed against him and the way that he had kissed him… gods, he wanted to be kissed like that again. 

Harry tidied the hastily discarded bottles away, and left the bedroom, slowly wandering back downstairs. The living room was pretty much empty now, except a few sleeping people Harry didn’t recognise. The healer part of him took over his mind for a moment as he checked their pulses, making sure that they were really asleep instead of having drunk just that little bit too much, before he pinched some of Hermione's floo powder and stepped into her large fireplace. 

“ _19 Elmore street,”_ Harry muttered confidently, before taking one last look around the room where so much had happened that night and disappearing in a plume of emerald smoke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Exactly four months since I first started The Assistant, I bring you chapter nine! I just wanted to say thank you so much for reading this, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
> Aster_star


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry decides to visit Draco's apartment to see why he didn’t come into work, but it doesn’t go exactly as planned...

“I told you, today were the inspections!” Harry muttered into the phone, trying to control his temper. It was strange for Hermione to call in sick the day that the ministry did their annual check-up, but his anger was mainly rooted in the fact that Draco had also informed Harry that he had been  _ very sorry  _ to say that he would be  _ unable to come in  _ due to a mild  _ flu. _ Bullshit, of course. It was obviously to do with what had happened yesterday, but the fact that he had the nerve to send Harry an email  _ lying to his face  _ really wound him up. He knew that deep down he was probably also annoyed at Draco because some small part of him actually found it helpful when he had someone to help with filing and documents, but he would never admit that to Draco's face. 

“Harry? You there?” Hermione croaked down the phone, and he acknowledged that she did sound pretty sick. 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I’m sorry, I’ve got a patient to see now. Get well soon, ‘Mione.” 

***

The sky was beginning to darken as Harry finally closed the door to his office behind him that evening. His work had taken double as long without Draco, and he realised with a pang of something unlabellable that he wanted to see Draco again. If only just to discuss what had happened yesterday, just to make him  _ see  _ that Harry hadn’t meant to scare him and had only acted so fast and without thinking because- well, because Harry wanted the blonde so goddamn much. With a new determination in his step, Harry headed to the nearest underground floo crossroad. Feeding Lady Lina Tibbles could wait a bit longer, although he knew that his cat wouldn’t be best pleased about it. Harry finally entered the dark corridor of green flames, bustling people and the occasional muggle who had somehow decided to use the abandoned rubbish bins that concealed the entrance to the crossroads below. Their memories were usually obliviated, and afterwards they always had a bad feeling about the empty bin on Kingsland road. Harry remembered with a smile the time that four rubbish collectors materialised in the illuminated hall, and the chaos that had caused. With a shake of his head, he headed to the nearest empty flooplace and took a vial of floo powder out of his pocket. He still remembered Draco’s address perfectly, and felt slightly guilty that Draco probably had no idea where Harry lived. 

As the green flames engulfed him, Harry wondered if he was making a huge mistake. Would Draco even want to see him again? If he had faked an illness just to get out of seeing Harry at work it had to mean that he… _no,_ Harry told himself. _I’m not going to let myself think that until I’m sure._ _But…_ before Harry could let the persistent thought take hold of him the floo dumped him in an old room with dusty portraits and a crackling non-magical fireplace. This had to be an old floo meeting room that wizards had used to use, Harry thought. Since more and more wizards had begun to use muggle transports or apparation, the floo network had become less popular and floo lobbies had become rather run-down. 

Harry walked out of the room, and wandered through the corridors of the apartment block until he found Draco's flat. He recognised the hand-painted number sign on the door, and was surprised to see a new plant beside the door that hadn’t been there last time. Well, he wasn’t discovering new things about Draco every day, wasn’t he? Suddenly feeling nervous again, Harry knocked quickly on the door. Maybe Draco wasn’t home? Maybe he-

Just then, Draco opened the door.

“Hello… Harry?” Draco asked slowly, and Harry noticed with a small account of dissatisfaction that Draco looked absolutely fine. 

“Draco Malfoy, you have three seconds to tell me why you decided not to come into work today, so make it quick,” Harry sighed, his frustration giving way to exhaustion. 

“I’m… sick?” Draco said lamely, before quickly glancing behind him into his apartment. Harry tried to peer over Dracos shoulders to see what was there, but saw nothing out of place. 

“Like I’m gonna believe that,” he replied, “when you clearly look… fine,” he finished, blushing a little. It was best for him not to think of how Draco looked. 

“Fine?” Draco repeated with a smirk, picking up on Harry’s hesitation. 

“Well, if you’re not even sick I really don’t see why you made me do double my work, meaning that I have to leave late! I have things to do and a cat to feed, you know?!” Harry said crossly. “And the least you could have done is-“

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Draco interrupted him with a little smile, and stepped closer to Harry.

“I… I wanted to finish a book I’m reading a-anyway! And now y-you… you’ve made me lose my train of thought!” Harry exclaimed, and crossed his arms. He was so close to Draco now that it felt like some force was pulling them together, making Harry lean further forwards to stare upwards at him. Draco hadn’t always been that tall, had he? Harry shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts and took a small step backwards from Draco. 

“I…er, I guess I sh-should get going then… and, er, here’s your work that you, um, gotta do…” Harry stuttered, and pressed the files he’d been carrying into Draco's chest. With a swift movement, he spun on his axis and took a step forwards, but was halted in his tracks by a hand on his shoulder.

“Now wait one moment,” Draco murmured to Harry. “You came all this way for a reason, and it wasn’t just to bring me these files, was it?” 

“Um… well, I, er, I guess I wanted to check that you were okay, after what happened at… the party,” Harry whispered, looking away from Draco and suddenly feeling like a fool. Draco was fine, wasn’t he? Maybe he had been overreacting when he thought about why Draco had looked so scared. Perhaps… he had remembered that he’d left his hair straightener on? No, that hadn’t been it. There had been something else… right?

“Look, Harry,” Draco said, and his face seemed to soften in the harsh light of the apartment corridor. “I gotta admit that I was a little… overwhelmed. I’ve just… never felt this way about someone before, and I think that everything just suddenly hit me and-  _ gods,  _ this is hard to say, but you’re fucking important to me, okay? And I don’t want to mess this up like I’ve messed everything else up.” 

“I want to kiss you so bad right now,” Harry replied, blushing as he glanced at Draco’s lips. 

“Then do,” Draco said with a smile, and it was all the confirmation Harry needed to wrap his arms around Draco and press him against the wall beside the door to his apartment. There was a soft thump as the folders in Dracos hands fell to the ground, and a moment later Harry felt Dracos fingers intertwining themselves into his messy curls, pulling Harry closer to him, demanding  _ more _ . And with a little smile, Harry complied. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I’ve been super busy recently- hope you all are well and safe. This chapter is for my great friend rosewater_cannoli (they have a reylo fic, it’s really good!) who’s been motivating me to write this from the start! Xx

In between kisses, Draco managed to pull Harry into the apartment behind him and close the door. They stumbled together through the modern kitchenette, past the counter that Harry had left his note on all those weeks ago, before finally collapsing onto the large bed in Dracos bedroom. Harry tried to ignore the display of green cacti on the window ledge in the corner of the room, but with the way Dracos hands felt on him… it wasn’t difficult. He shivered slightly, although he wasn’t cold, but Dracos hands were steady as they slowly unbuttoned his jacket. When it was finally off Draco folded it carefully onto his desk, and kissed Harry softly. Harry replied by wrapping his arms around Draco, and pulling him on top of him onto the bed. 

“Draco…” Harry murmured into his ear, and smiled as the blonde responded to the trailed kisses of fire that Harry sent down Dracos neck. “ _Gods,_ Harry-“ Draco gasped, and arched into Harry’s touch. Harry’s wandering lips claimed Draco's mouth again, and he nipped Dracos lips slightly with his teeth, teasing a soft moan from Draco. 

He looked up, and when his emerald eyes found Dracos molten silver ones, he knew what he had to do. 

***

Hermione Granger knocked onto the dark oak door, and tried not to be very freaked out by the shiny knocker that was grinning madly at her. She almost fainted when the grotesque creature blinked with those large, mismatched eyes and stuck out its tongue at her.

“Password,” it rasped with an odd accent that Hermione couldn’t place. Of _course_ Pansy would have a password-requiring demon-thing on the door to her house. It was the first time Hermione had been invited here, and she was itching to see if the interior of the old house mirrored the gloomy exterior. If only that _fucking creepy knocker_ let her in. 

“Er, Pan- Pansy? Pansy Parkinson? I’m here to see her-“ She tried, but it was of no use. Maybe the password would be Pansy‘s favourite animal? Or flower? Hermione looked up at the dark house, peering into the windows for a sign of Pansy. 

“Um, black?” She resumed her guessing. “Tulips? Yellow tulips? Black... pansies?” Hermione voiced the first naturally dark flower that came into her head, and realised with a smile that that _had_ to be it. Right? 

“Password,” the knocker repeated with a sneer, and Hermione felt a sense of helplessness. She would _never_ get in, at least not while that stupid knocker insisted on-

“Silencio,” a voice said behind her, and the bronze face immediately slackened with a disgruntled look in its eyes. Hermione spun around, wand out, but realised after a moment who the figure behind her was. 

“Sorry Hermi- I thought that the case would only take 15 minutes, but it kept being extended, so _then_ I had to get this strange thing back called a _train_ but it didn’t come and I couldn’t apparate because of the wards muggle buildings have…” Pansy Parkinson sighed, and pecked Hermione on the cheek before moving forwards and banging the knocker on the door twice. The small face opened an eye sleepily, before quickly opening both, quaking with fear. 

“Nigel, what did I tell you about letting Hermi in?” Pansy glared at the knocker, before giving Hermione an exasperated smile. 

“Sorry!” The knocker, Nigel, squeaked back. “I d-didn’t know it w-was Herm-i!” 

Pansy raised an eyebrow, and seemed to give him a look that said _you knew full well who this was._ “The passwords Steven Strange, by the way- my old flat mate used to be an intense Marvel fan and even though we’ve moved, Nigel has never forgotten that password. If only there were a _reset_ on this damn thing- but unfortunately demons don’t behave as you want them to sometimes.” 

“Wait, Nigels a demon? And you used to have a flat mate? A _muggle_ flat mate? Or just a wizard or witch who like Marvel? Had they seen-“

“No spoilers!” Pansy quickly interrupted Hermione. “Draco‘s still making me watch them- and yep, Nigel's a weird demon that we got for half price at-“

“Hang on- your flat mate was Draco? As in _the_ Draco?!” Hermione asked. 

“The one and only,” Pansy confirmed as she took Hermione’s coat and hung it up on a rack. “I thought you knew that we used to share an apartment a few years back- it was easier to pay the rent and our parents were trying to set us up anyway. Pretending we were together just seemed to be the best way to hide that neither of us were actually into the opposite sex- that is until Draco got caught with Fr- er, someone, and he moved out pretty soon after that. There are more Marvel films than I can count, and yet he still managed to make me watch half of them- I’m on _Guardians of the Galaxy 2_ at the moment.” 

Hermione opened her mouth to say sonthing, but paused as they entered the large kitchen area. It was unrecognisable to the building's facade: a large glass wall opened up onto a pale patio, with an array of colours and plants growing neatly in the garden beyond. 

“The exterior’s just to keep the neighbours away,” Pansy laughed at Hermione’s expression, “although Nigel does a pretty good job of that too.”

“I heard that!” Nigel called in a raspy screech from the hallway door. “Don’t say I’m a good-for-nothing-“ Pansy closed the door to the kitchen behind them, drowning out the knocker's words.

“Tea?” She said as she opened a white cupboard below the wooden countertop. 

“Yes please,” Hermione replied, and took a seat on one of the stools by the kitchen island. When Pansy had finished filling the kettle and preparing the tea bags, she brought two mugs over to the island and handed one to Hermione. 

“So, what do you think?” Pansy said with a smile, spreading her arms and spinning around slightly. 

“It’s different to how I expected,” Hermione admitted with a laugh. “But it's beautiful.”

“You make it ten times more beautiful,” Pansy murmured, and tucked a strand of Hermione hair behind her ear. Hermione blushed, and quickly sipped some of her tea. 

“Oops- still too hot,” She laughed and put her mug back on the counter. After a pause, Pansy ran her hand through her short dark hair.

“Wow, that was cringy,” she laughed, and then paused, thinking. “I... er, I got you something, if you wanna do something cool?”


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: this chapter is more of a filler between chapters 11 and 13, instead of a stand alone chapter- hence the short length! Chapter 13 may take a while to write, so I hope you enjoy this short chapter in the meantime. Thanks!

“Are those what I think they are?” Hermione squeaked as she opened the envelope Pansy had given her. 

“I’ve wanted to see this exhibition for ages! How did you know that I love-“

“You don’t exactly make it discreet, do you,” Pansy smiled as she gestured to Hermione’s T-shirt, which had a large slogan reading _`I became an impressionist for the monet.’_ Hermione blushed and hid her painting-palette shaped earrings behind her curly brown hair. 

“I’ve been trying to get those tickets for ages though… how-“ she started, and then paused. “Actually, I’m not sure that I want to know.”

“Don’t worry, it was nothing _bad_ ,” Pansy grinned. “Just friends in high places.”

“Well, I can certainly sleep at night now,” Hermione said sarcastically. She looked at the tickets again, and nearly jumped out of her skin. “Pansy!? These are for _next weekend_!”

“Well you’re free, aren’t you?” Pansy said with a smirk, and googled something on her phone. “And you won’t be able to _resist_ the cafe-“ she flipped her phone around, revealing photos of a large modern cafe with a display of cakes and small lunches. Hermione gasped audibly, and pretended to faint.

“Your right,” she sighed in mock resignation. “I’m _all_ in.”

***

“Draco,” Harry finally said. “Before we, er… _y’know,_ I have… umm, something I need t-to ask you.”

Draco paused, and sat up on the bed. 

“I… I gotticketsforthenationalgallery” Harry said, and grabbed a pillow to hide his face. 

“I know you wanted to see the exhibition on the _lost works of the masters_ or something like that- so, er, I- here,” Harry mumbled, and retrieved the folded tickets from the pocket of his partly-unbuttoned shirt. “You don’t need to go if y-you don’t want to, though! I’m sure that you have plans, or…”

“Of course I want to go, silly.” Draco smiled fondly, and kissed the sliver of Harry’s forehead that wasn’t hidden by the cushion. Harry blushed, and removed the pillow slowly. 

“You do?” He said, and then threw his arms around Draco. “I’m so glad! I mean, it is next weekend but-“

“Harry, wasn’t there something we were in the middle of?” Draco asked slyly, brushing his finger across Harry’s exposed chest. 

A glint appeared in Harry’s emerald eyes, and he moved forwards, pressing Draco back down on to the bed. 

“There was, wasn’t there?” He murmured. 

Draco leaned upwards, and Harry kissed him again. Draco dragged his fingers along Harry’s shoulders, teasing a gasp from Harry’s lips- Draco used the opening to slip his tongue into Harry’s mouth, and the dance continued. As Draco’s hands explored Harry’s body, he used his own to tease sweet moans from Draco. Each sound made him more confident, and he left a trail of kisses down Draco’s collarbone- each kiss slightly longer than the last. 

“Oh god, _Harry_ -“ Draco gasped as Harry’s tongue wandered down Draco’s torso. In response, Draco dug his nails slightly into Harry’s back, causing Harry to go _faster,_ to need _more_ -

Harry’s tongue ghosted Draco’s inner thigh. 

“Are you sure?” He asked once more, needing to check. “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted.

” _don’t fucking stop,”_ Draco breathed. Then, softer, “you’re amazing, Harry.” 

Harry blushed, licked his lips, and continued. 


	13. Chapter thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Pansy visit the National Art Gallery, and bump into two famous faces on the way- Sherlock Holmes and John Watson! As Draco and Harry arrive at the same location, the two Hogwarts couples finally meet. But will Hermione and Pansy reveal that they’ve been dating- and what is the famous detective doing at the gallery? 
> 
> (You can read this chapter without any Sherlock knowledge- and don’t worry, there are no spoilers!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I can’t believe that so many people have liked reading the stuff that I write, so thank you. 
> 
> I wanted to post this update on Christmas, so despite it not really having any Christmas-related content, I hope it makes this day just a little bit better for you. 
> 
> On another note, this chapter is actually a kind-of crossover between The Assistant and my other work, which contains Johnlock one-shots. That means that John Watson and Sherlock Holmes do appear in this chapter, but don’t worry if you’re not sure who they are! It will make sense without any particular knowledge of the characters: all you need to know is that Sherlock is a great Detective and in the original book series and film adaptations, John is his ‘work partner’ in a way- he’s also a doctor but that doesn’t really matter. In chapter 13 of The Assistant, he is actually Sherlocks boyfriend too- but that becomes clear with dialogue so don’t worry about backstory. 
> 
> I hope this all makes sense- enjoy!
> 
> Aster :)

“...are you sure that you know where we’re going?” Pansy asked for the umpteenth time, as she and Hermione passed the same part of black gate again. 

“Well, if only there were a clear entrance to this place- I’m  _ sure  _ we’re going the right way now, at least… oh! Hang on, let me ask someone,” Hermione said as she caught sight of a small man in a large parka who was standing by a bench near them. 

“Er, hello, excuse me-“ she started as she walked closer to the man. Hermione noticed that he had sandy hair and a tanned face, and when she asked if he knew the directions to the entrance he laughed and ran a hand through his short hair. 

“To be honest I’m sort of lost too- I’m actually going to the impressionist exhibition there which starts in about half an hour. I’m John Watson, by the way- my boyfriend Sherlock’s just gone off to see if he can find a way in.” The man, John, laughed again, and pointed over to a tall man in the distance who was walking quickly back towards them.

“Hermione,” she replied and smiled at the man before her. They waited until the dark haired man arrived, who proceeded to look Hermione over with a critical expression. He reminded her a little of Harry, except that he was taller, and didn’t have the round glasses. 

“A muggle-born witch- interesting,” Sherlock smiled, and then faced John. “I’ve found the entrance, although they should really improve their signposting- it’s not too far.” He then looked back at Hermione, who was still recovering from him knowing of her magical abilities, despite being a muggle, and re-wrapped his blue scarf around his neck. “It’s your clothes, by the way,” he finally said, pointing to her coat and jeans. “Clearly popular fashion brands, but the wand pocket in your coat suggests magical abilities and your use of a map on a phone instead of on paper suggests confidence in the technology of… muggles, as you call us.” John facepalmed behind her and muttered something that sounded like ‘stop showing off, Sherlock’. Hermione only shook her head in wonder, and turned around to look for Pansy. She had barely begun to call her girlfriends name when Pansy came, and halted in her tracks at the sight of Sherlock. 

“Sherlock Holmes?!” She squeaked in a high-pitched voice. “The detective?” She added, and gave Hermione a look of wonder and confusion that seemed to ask how exactly she had managed to meet him. 

“Er, this is Pansy, by the way-“ Hermione quickly introduced Pan to John and Sherlock. “Would you mind showing us to the entrance?” 

John nodded and smiled, and explained that the witches were going to the same exhibition as them so they might as well walk together.

“Oh, well of course they are-“ Sherlock said with a frown as if it were the most obvious thing. Everyone stared at him for a moment, when Sherlock suddenly burst out laughing. 

“She’s h-holding the t-tickets,  _ John _ !” He chuckled. John rolled his eyes fondly, and Pansy continued to work up the courage to ask for an autograph like nothing had just happened.

They started to walk to the entrance, chatting about little things, but they split ways when they arrived. 

“Wasn’t that awesome?” Pansy grinned as soon as Sherlock and John were out of earshot. “I can't believe you didn't recognise John when you met him- although he was a little different to how I expected. But, wait, weren’t you raised by muggles? How have you  _ not _ heard of Sherlock Holmes?!” 

“Er, well… I didn't pay much attention to those kind of murder-mystery things when I was younger- I mean,  _ sure,  _ I had  _ heard  _ of him, but didnt know… what he looked like…” She trailed off into a whisper, but Pansy heard it anyway. She spluttered for a few moments, and then looked at Hermione.

“This conversation is  _ not over-“  _ she stage-whispered, and proceeded to tidy her coat and Hermione’s bags into a locker. 

“Well, I’ll appreciate the last few hours of my life,” Hermione joked, and kissed Pansy on the cheek. “For now, let's check out some paintings, shall we?”

***

The cafe was already crowded when Draco and Harry entered, but the queue wasn’t too long. Harry smirked when Draco chose a single green apple as a side to his meal, and proceeded to monologue about the benefits of different crisp flavours. 

“Sorry, but popcorn trumps crisps,” Draco smiled and reached for a light blue packet of salted popcorn. 

“No way! Crisps are good for anytime, whereas popcorn is just for cinem- wait, is that Pansy and Hermione?!” Harry paused the long speech he was about to deliver and started waving wildly at where Pansy and Hermione were sitting. 

“Hermione!” He called, and Draco muttered “ _ I don’t know him.” _

Suddenly Draco looked up. 

“Hang on, did you say Pansy?  _ Pansy’s  _ here? Why is she here with _ Hermione _ ?”

Draco turned around to hear Harry’s response, and after finding that he had already gone, quickly ordered and carried their trays to the girls’ tables. 

As soon as Hermione caught sight of Harry and Draco, a million thoughts entered her mind. And, oh god-  _ Pansy  _ was here too- and Harry and  _ Draco _ !? Were they on a date? She hid a giggle, before reminding herself that the Harry was nearing their table and that she hadn’t thought of an excuse yet that explained why she was here with Pan- 

“Harry!” Pansy interrupted Hermione's thoughts and greeted him, while casting a wide-eyed look of panic to Hermione. “ _ I know!”  _ She silently mouthed back.

“What a  _ nice  _ surprise!” Pan continued, and moved her bag from the chair next to her, motioning for Harry to sit. 

“Thanks,” he said with a smile, and then grinned at Hermione. “I was  _ not  _ expecting to see you here, ‘Moine- I mean, I guess this is kind of… your thing, y’know, the, er, art-“ he waved his arm around him, and Hermione cringed inwardly. “But, well, it’s nice to see you! And, um, you too, Pansy…?” He looked at Hermione with a questioning look, who pretended not to notice. She wasn’t going to make up an excuse until she absolutely had to.

“Good afternoon, Pansy, Hermione.” Draco said as he expertly balanced the two trays while appearing somewhat dignified. 

“Draco,” Pansy replied with a smirk. “Take a seat.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! Let’s hope that 2021 will be more positive and better than 2020 :) stay safe and happy!  
> Aster

“Funny to see you here, Parkinson,” Harry frowned as Draco sat down next to him. “Is this… for work?” To be true to himself, he wasn’t particularly sure what Pansy actually did- apart from the fact that she worked in the same department as Hermione. But whenever Hermione started to talk about what  _ she  _ did… well, there was a reason he was never invited to her work events. The last time, he had embarrassed her by assuming that she still had the job in journalism at the ministry ( _ “Harry, I quit that job a month ago!”),  _ and she hasn’t trusted him around her new colleagues since. 

Due to all his internal thinking, he missed the look that passed between Pansy and Hermione. 

“Well, actually, Harry,” Hermione started. “Pansy and I are, er… were dating.” 

Draco looked at Pansy and raised an eyebrow, and she blushed and looked away in confirmation. 

“Oh! C-cool- how long have you guys been… y’know?” Harry stuttered awkwardly. God, he was terrible at small talk. 

“A few months,” Pansy smiled and kissed Hermione on the cheek. “She walked into my office one time, and I guess it just sort of clicked,” Hermione said. 

“It was the fact that I was the only one who used grammar correctly in emails,” Pansy whispered conspiratorially to Harry and Draco, and Hermione rolled her eyes with a smile.

“So, what about you?” She quickly directed the topic back at Harry and Draco. Harry started to say something, when suddenly a tall man in a dark coat and a smaller man in a parka hurried to their table and sat down next to them. 

“Oh! It’s you again! Hello, John- and Sherlock.” Hermione smiled with a look of confusion, and Pansy nearly fainted again. “ _ I’m dreaming... _ ” she mumbled. 

“Can we help you with anything?” Hermione continued. 

“Don’t look now,” Sherlock whispered to the couples, “but I believe that woman over there is planning on killing your friend.” He pointed at Harry, hesitated for a few moments, and then his face lit up. “ _ Harry Potter?  _ My, what a pleasure! Well that makes sense now, what with your  _ fame  _ and all, despite the stains on the woman’s trousers indicating non-magical abilities, but I suppose it could come from her partner- yes, and the new necktie suggests a recent present-“

“ _ Sherlock _ ,” John hissed. “ _ Not here _ !”

Sherlock shook himself apologetically. “Er, yes, sorry. My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this here is my… well, boyfriend, really, John Watson; we met your friends here earlier this morning. What a surprise to see you all here again so soon!”

“Sorry, hold up-“ Draco interjected. “Did you just say that  _ someone is planning to kill Harry _ ?” 

“Draco Malloy, if you start freaking out-“ Harry said nervously.

“HARRYSOMEONEISPLANNINGONKILLINGYOUHOWAREYOU _ NOT _ FREAKINGOUT!” He interrupted frantically. 

“I’m sure that  _ nothing’s _ gonna happen. This is probably just a precaution, right, Mr Holmes?” Harry smiled tensely, patted Draco's hand, and looked hopefully to Sherlock, who shook his head. 

“Someone is most definitely going to kill you this afternoon.” Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly. He winced, and Harry suspected that John had kicked him in the shins because the next moment he said, “...which  _ of course  _ we’re trying to  _ avoid _ , Mr Potter.”

Hermione and Pansy took advantage of sitting opposite the men and tried to look around. 

“What does she look like? And anyway, how do you know that she’s planning on… killing Harry?” Hermione asked anxiously. 

“Short brown hair, a mole on her right cheek, I think, and wearing a green coat. Right, Sherlock?” John answered, but when he looked to his left, Sherlock was gone. “Sherlock?” He repeated, and then looked to the others. “Did you see where he went?” He asked sheepishly. Hermione shrugged, and Pansy gestured to the exit, which led to the locker rooms.

“Well, don’t worry about him! Maaaybe we should, just, go after him,” John said quickly. “If you’re all finished,” He added. The others all nodded, except Pansy, who loudly opened a packet of cheese and onion crisps. 

“ _ I'll bring it with me,”  _ She mouthed.

As they left the cafeteria, they tried to catch a glimpse of the mysterious murderer, but they saw no one that they recognised. As they walked, John filled them in on what Sherlock had told him.

“To be honest, I’m not  _ entirely  _ sure why this woman is going to kill your friend here, but I think it was something to do with revenge…? Something of a  _ war _ , even, but that can't be right, can it? I mean, aren’t you the unspoken hero of that magic war? Who would want to  _ kill  _ you for it?”

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance. 

“Well, there are always two sides to any war,” Harry finally sighed. “I can imagine countless people unhappy with the outcome.”

The group lapsed into silence, but the awkwardness was broken when they arrived by the locker room. And, sure enough, there was Sherlock, trying to open one of the lockers. 

“Sherlock, what are you  _ doing  _ here?” John whispered loudly as they entered the room. 

“Did you see the key, John? The key in her pocket?” Sherlock replied.

John shook his head.

“Well, I saw the locker number. And I’m  _ trying  _ to open this locker, but it keeps jamming.” Sherlock gave the hairpin that was in the keyhole another turn for emphasis. 

“Oh, sorry, I forgot how hard it is to be a  _ muggle _ ,” Pansy smirked. “Alohomora.” She muttered, and the locker popped open. 

John shook his head in disbelief, but Sherlock only smiled and nodded, as if the existence of magic was the most normal thing in the world. They all crowded around the locker, but just as John moved to open it fully, a voice spoke from behind them.

“Can I help you with anything?” The voice said. The group froze, and then slowly turned. Harry blinked several times, then asked in wonder:

“ _ Dudley _ ?” 

Pansy and Draco exchanged a look, but realisation dawned on Hermione. 

“Oh, hello Dudley.” She said politely, refraining from lunging forwards and giving him what he deserved for the way he had treated Harry. When Dudley Dursley realised who he was speaking to, he froze and waved awkwardly at them, before making up a mumbled excuse and awkwardly shuffling away, as if he had forgotten why he had walked over to them in the first place.

“He looks different,” Hermione commented, and Harry’s gaze followed the retreating back of his cousin. 

“Yeah,” he murmured in reply. “Nicer, somehow.” 

“Do you know who that was?” Pansy whispered to Draco, although everyone could hear her, and Draco subtly shook his head. She shrugged, ate her last few crisps, and threw the empty crisp packet into the bin at the side of the room. She missed. With a sigh, she concentrated on the scrunched-up ball and it flew, wobbling, into the bin. 

“ _ Show off,”  _ Hermione said, but kissed Pansy on the cheek.

“...that was... strange,” Sherlock said, and then clapped his hands. “Well! Let’s see what’s in here, shall we?”


End file.
